


Lackadaisical

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [198]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock Fluff, M/M, ok mostly angst, on the angsty side
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 06:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6599977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>lackadaisical: adjective: lak əˈ dāz ək(ə)l: lacking enthusiasm and determination; carelessly lazy.</p>
<p>mid 18th century (also in the sense ‘feebly sentimental’): from the archaic interjection lackaday, lackadaisy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lackadaisical

**Author's Note:**

> (or lackadaithhical...as the case may be)

John sighed and looked at the clock, already two in the afternoon, and no sign of Sherlock yet. He had thought that now that their relationship had changed, the detective would somehow give up his moody, lackadaisical moments. He had been warned; Sherlock had no illusions about what a change in sleeping arrangements would mean.

"John," he had whispered, "I love you, and I love what we are becoming, but you know who and what I am..."

John had nodded sagely, then went back to finding those places that made Sherlock tremble beneath his lips.

After a few more minutes, John threw his paper down, undressed and walked quietly to their bedroom. It was darkened, but he could see Sherlock's unmistakable outline covered in the sheets. He climbed into bed and touched him gently.

"Love?"

"Hmmm?"

"Is it all right if I..."

"John...please." Sherlock turned over and looked him in the eyes. He lifted the sheets and invited him closer, wrapping his lean, wiry frame around him. He sighed and buried his nose in John's hair. "Some days, it's just too much."

"What is, love?" John whispered.

"The world, the noise, people. Everything comes at me and I can't..."

"Shh...I'm here, love." John pulled Sherlock down against him, shielding him from everything. He kissed him softly, and felt him relax against him.

"I know, John, you are my heart, my safe place, please..."

"I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere." 

Sherlock sighed and nodded, then John felt him fall asleep. He wondered at the trust he was given; this brilliant, strong yet fragile man had given him everything, everything he had ever wanted, and all he could do was hold him as he slept. So that's what he did. 

Tomorrow, Sherlock would be up before dawn, dragging John alongside him, in another crazy, whirlwind of a case; tonight, he simply needed to rest.


End file.
